Words From the Cross: "Woman, behold, your son! Behold, your mother!"

“When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.” 

John 19:26-27

We are spending the weeks of Lent focusing on the last words of Jesus from the cross, because we want to understand more of his heart. We want to know him better, and appreciate him more deeply. Today we will meditate on Jesus’ words to his mother and John. It feels a little like we are listening into an intimate conversation, but these words were recorded for us, not just for our information, but for our good. What can we learn from the interaction between Jesus and these two people he dearly loved? Let’s first look at the journey that led Mary and John to the foot of Jesus’ cross. 

Mary had more insight than most about who Jesus truly was. She knew the goodness of his heart, because she lived with him for thirty years before he began his public ministry. We believe that her husband, Joseph, died before Jesus began his public ministry. As the oldest son, Jesus would have been responsible for taking care of Mary and his younger brothers and sisters, by taking up the running of the family business. From the way that Mary interacted with Jesus at the wedding at Cana (in John 2), it is clear that he had been a dutiful, obedient and caring son. She had come to rely on him. 

But Jesus was more than just a good son. Mary understood that he was not of this world, because she was more aware than anyone else of the mystery that shrouded his birth. She understood that he had incredible power. In fact, she was the first to believe in him! She asked him to turn the water into wine at the wedding at Cana, the request that prompted Jesus to perform his first miracle. Mary believed in the goodness and power of Jesus.

She believed, but she didn’t fully understand.

Jesus understood that day, what turning water into wine would do. He knew that by one seemingly harmless act, he would step out of anonymity and into the spotlight. The miracle at Cana thrust Jesus into the public eye, which set into motion the path that would eventually lead to his death. Mary had no idea what she was asking of her son at that wedding. All she thought about was the embarrassment of her friends, because they had run out of wine. She could never have expected everything that followed. 

As she stood at the foot of the cross that day, I wonder what went through Mary’s mind. As a mother, I can’t help but imagine what she might have been thinking. If it were me, I would have been cursing the day I asked him to perform that first miracle. I would have wanted to go back in time, and just let him be a normal man, at a normal wedding, enjoying a feast with his friends. I would have replayed that moment again and again, seeing his face in my mind when I asked him to “just do this one small favor for my friend”. If I were Mary, I would have looked up at my bloodied, beaten, broken son, hanging on the cross and bitterly regretted the request I made of him at that wedding. Mothers can have tunnel vision when it comes to their children’s pain.

Standing next to Mary was John. John, the beloved disciple, more than likely was the baby of the group. Many commenters believe, for various reasons, that John was the youngest disciple of the twelve. He was certainly full of youthful bravery that day. While all the older disciples fled and abandoned Jesus in his hour of need, only little John remained. John understood that Jesus loved him. It was the love of Jesus and his love for Jesus that compelled him toward his Savior, even when everyone else ran away. 

What we see about the heart of Christ in this moment is this: when Jesus was in excruciating pain and deepest agony, his heart was not focused on his own distress. He looked down at two people who were grieving, a mother who was losing her son and a boy who was losing his older “brother”, and he felt compassion for them. He cared for their hearts. He gave them to each other. 

This is who our God is. I believe John was reflecting back on this moment, when he later wrote these words: “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!”. (1 John 3:1) This is the love the Father has poured out on us! Mary and John represent us all. We are all orphans and widows, helpless and without hope, until the Father seeks us out and brings us home. The Father longs to draw us into his love, so he sent the greatest and best of sons into the world, to seek us out and bring us home. That perfect Son hung on a cross, dying our death, paying our debt, so that you and I could become children of God–and that is what we are. Every bereft heart, everyone who has known loss and pain, every grieving soul is offered a room in the Father’s house and a place at the Father’s table. There is space for you, child of God. 

Jesus looks at your grief with compassion. He enfolds you into his love. He gathers you into his heart and into his home. He gives you a people and a place. This Lenten season, with eyes of faith, look up at the Son, who gave himself for you. Know that this is the proof of the Father’s love for you. Hear the voice of the Father, who calls you his child. For that, dear one, is who you are.